Next Contestant

"Someone's looking particularly sexy tonight," Jack observed aloud as he leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom, watching his slightly younger boyfriend straighten and ruffle his short hair in the mirror. The latter wasn't wearing anything except for a pair of his tight, pink briefs, having only just gotten out of the shower when he decided to do his hair before finally getting dressed.

Alex glanced over from where he was busy glaring menacingly and desperately running his straightener over one specific piece of hair that wouldn't lay down. It was front and center, too, and he honestly just didn't want it to be there anymore. Nonetheless, he smiled cutely at Jack's reflection, who easily returned the look. Alex may've been used to Jack calling him sexy, seeing as how it was a nightly occurrence, but it still made him feel invincible.

"Y'know, baby," Jack started once Alex went back to focusing on his reddish-brown hair. He stepped into the room when Alex hummed for him to continue, pressing his chest against Alex's back and wrapping his arms around the slighter man's waist. "Baby," Jack sing-songed, placing his lips at his boyfriend's neck.

"Jack, I gotta get ready for work," Alex protested with a gentle scowl. His body, however, betrayed him, and he soon relaxed into the elder's hold, head tilting to the side as he watched Jack work in the mirror. The older male's hands moved to rub back and forth between Alex's sides and his stomach before coming to rest on the latter. Of course, Alex didn't hesitate to put his straightener on the counter so that he could lace their fingers together on his own torso, his head leaning back to rest against Jack's shoulder as a content hum left his throat, eyes slipping closed.

"I think you should really take the night off," Jack disagreed softly, lips barely brushing Alex's flesh in a way that made him shiver.

Alex sighed, as he did every other time Jack tried to get him to stay home from work—or, y'know, quit his job as a bartender and server at the local bar.

"You know I can't do that," Alex disagreed, eyes peeling open to give Jack's reflection the look. That look, the one that made Jack pout right on back. Why couldn't he have his way for just once?

"But I don't want you to—"

"I'll be fine," Alex assured, as he did every single night. He turned in Jack's hold then, pushing himself up on his toes to kiss the older man softly. "Besides, my hero will always be there to save me if anything bad happens."

And, yeah, being called Alex's hero always made Jack feel slightly better. He was just getting sick of having to kick everyone's ass so that Alex could make enough money to pitch in around the apartment.

He didn't want Alex to work at the bar; he didn't want Alex to work anywhere, really, but until he was able to graduate college and get a full-time, well-paying job, he knew he'd have to put up with it—no matter how much it killed him.

Honestly, Jack wouldn't have minded Alex working if it were somewhere like the local supermarket or something, but that wouldn't have made even half the money that Alex did with bar-tending. He could mix a drink better than anyone Jack knew, and that's how he made more than all of his other coworkers. Of course, people generally also tipped him more because of his looks, but that's whatever. He was making enough money to help keep them in their apartment, and that's what mattered.

And that's how, no more than a single hour later, Jack found himself pulling into the parking lot of V.B.'s Sports Bar. Alex could only lean over to press a quick kiss to his beau's awaiting lips before hopping from the car to scramble inside. Jack had purposely gone out of his way in an attempt to make Alex late—something he never actually went through with yet came close to every time.

It took a few minutes to find a parking space, seeing as how most patrons knew Alex was working that night, and then he took a moment to mentally prepare himself. With a sigh, Jack made sure to grab his jacket from the backseat, knowing Alex would probably start to complain about being cold after about two hours, and then he climbed from the car to follow the younger man's route into the building.

Alex was nowhere in sight as Jack walked up to the bar, but then the younger boy was ducking out from the back. He was breathing heavily, a side effect from running while out of shape (which he didn't look at all), and his hands were behind his back, tying his mandatory black waist apron in place.

When Alex looked up, it seemed like all eyes in the room turned to stare at him. There were even a few wolf whistles, as there were every night, but the young man could only roll his eyes before he made his way towards the first person that waved him over: Jack.

"What can I get for you, sexy?" Alex joked, leaning into the counter and smiling up at his boyfriend. His hips began to sway side-to-side with the beat of the song playing over the speakers, and Jack could tell that everyone was staring at his boyfriend's ass. He didn't snap, though, and instead raised his right hand to his chin in faux deliberation.

"How about a Screwdriver?" he decided, glancing around at the guys and girls surrounding him, all ogling at his boyfriend. "And maybe a baseball bat, too."

"We don't sell those," Alex said with a pout, fingers of his right hand reaching out to rub and tap against the back of Jack's left. It was the things like that that always left Jack confused; wouldn't the other customers kinda realize that they were together? Sure, they never kissed while Alex was on the job, but no one else got the subtle touches that he did—he would know. "But one Screwdriver for my favorite customer, coming right up. Is that all you want?"

Jack sighed in play yet nodded his head nonetheless. "If you don't have any baseball bats, then a Screwdriver will have to do. Extra vodka or I might kick someone's ass."

"No extra vodka because you will kick someone's ass if I give it to you," Alex disagreed before winking and moving away behind the counter to start mixing the cocktail.

Jack watched Alex closely. Well, actually, he was more so watching the people who gathered near Alex, all calling out to his boyfriend. It's not even like Alex could just ignore them—it was his job to pay attention. Nevertheless, he sent polite smiles to his customers before heading back over to Jack, setting the cocktail in front of him.

"Am I opening up the usual tab, or are you gonna be driving us home tonight?" he teased as Jack took a chug from the glass now clasped a little too tightly in his hand.

After a moment's thought, he shook his head, answering, "I think I'll just have a beer after this. You know how much it takes to get me buzzed."

"You sure?" Alex questioned, glancing over to where a table was attempting to flag him down.

"I'm sure, baby. Now get back to work."

Alex grinned, throwing a quiet, "Love ya," over his shoulder as he moved from behind the bar. Just like before, Jack watched on. And that's when the night truly began.

Is that your fucking hand on my boyfriend? was one of the numerous things flying through Jack's head. Do it again, fucking do it again.

Now, Jack wasn't a violent person. Never had been, really. But when people were grabbing Alex's ass every time he so much as bat an eyelash, that's when he'd lose all of his inhibitions.

Each night went like that, and each night just seemed like it was getting worse.

He knew what they were all doing; thinking. They thought they could get inside Alex if they bought him enough drinks. They thought the DJ would be able to give them insight on how Alex would react to being hit on. They thought it was a good idea to touch his fucking boyfriend.

After the third guy reached out for a handful of Alex, Jack was spinning back to face the bar and spitting an, "Alex is going on his fucking break," to Chad, the other bartender on duty.

With that, Jack was hopping from his barstool and storming over to his boyfriend. When the younger (who was desperately trying to be polite in rejecting the man that kept trying to come onto him) was reached, Jack smacked the customer's hand away and grabbed Alex's waist, turning him so that he could press their lips together.

Alex, of course, having thought his boyfriend was still across the bar, froze in shock and fear before realizing who it was. Then his eyes slipped closed, and he melted into Jack, his arms moving to drape around the elder's neck as he pushed himself up on his toes.

"Fuck," Alex gasped, attempting to push Jack away after another few moments of losing himself in the elder's touch. "What are you doing? Fuck, I'm so gonna get fired for th—"

"I told Chad that you're going on your break," Jack explained, reaching for Alex's hand as it still tried to push him away by his chest and then lacing their fingers together. "I think he knew what I was gonna do anyway. That'll fucking show them."

Without waiting for Alex's response, Jack was beginning the walk back to the bar, the younger man in close tow. Upon reaching his abandoned (and still surprisingly empty) stool, Jack sat down, lifting Alex up onto his lap.

"Let's see them fucking touch you again," he growled, leaning his forehead against Alex's. "I hope they do. I fucking hope they touch you like that one more fucking time. They'll leave here limping, I swear to God."

"My hero," was the smaller boy's only reply.

The rest of Alex's half hour long break passed in much the same manner: with Jack sending challenging glares around the room while Alex would laugh and press delicate kisses to his face. When those thirty minutes were up, Jack was no longer worried, nor was he upset.

That is, until a guy, clearly a good few years older than Jack himself, repeated the actions that the raven-haired man had demonstrated less than an hour prior. And just like that, Jack was across the bar with his hands wrapped tightly around the other guy's throat.

Many of the bar's patrons stood in shock before breaking out into excited, drunken cheers as the older man flipped them over. He'd only gained the upper hand for a moment, however, and then Jack had reasserted his position. The fists flew for no more than two minutes, both men ending up with some variation of an injury, and then someone was pulling Jack away.

The raven-haired man had his fist pulled back again, fully prepared to start another fight with whoever was trying to stop him, but he paused when he realized that it was only his boyfriend.

"Baby, come on," Alex urged, tugging on Jack's arm as he bit his lip, gaze darting to all of the stunned yet rowdy bar-goers. "Baby, please."

With a little more coaxing, Jack was standing and moving away from the guy still lying on the floor, who was too winded to stand at the moment.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Alex hissed, eyes wide with disbelief as he led the elder back to the bar. "Holy shit, Jack, why didn't you—"

"Do that sooner?" Chad cut in. He was doubled over behind the bar, hand clutching at his sides as he gasped for breath, uncontrollable rounds of hysterics bubbling from his lips. "I've been waiting to see you do something like that for months, man."

"Don't encourage him!" Alex snapped, sitting his boyfriend at an unoccupied stool before bustling to the back in search of a clean cloth and some ice.

When he was out of sight, Chad shook his head. "I can't believe that took you so long. If my girlfriend were getting hit on like that every single night, I'd have killed someone."

"This is the only place he can make enough money for us to keep the apartment," Jack explained. "He likes mixing drinks and hanging out with you, too. The only downside is the douche bags."

"I don't think you gotta worry about them anymore," Chad replied, gaze stuck to the battered patron as he finally began to limp his way from the bar. "There goes the next contestant."